Laws of Chaos
by SirenShadow
Summary: Diana is a popular prostitute in a brothel,her life is a mess but she can handle it.That is until a dark haired mobster keeps coming back for more.Dark pasts resurface.Possession, jealousy, lies and love; how much chaos can these two take?  Ciana. lemon.
1. The Client

**A/N: This is an odd experiment of mine. You'll really have to tell me yay or nay on this, I HAVE NO IDEA AND I'M INSECURE!**

**Hem-Hem, pardon me.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter One:<span>**

**The Client.**

It was just another day. Nothing strange about the physics of that day, the sun rose and it set, the moon and stars appeared and disappeared like normal. The clock ticked away intervals of sixty seconds, minutes and twenty four hours like it did every other day of the three hundred and sixty five days that year. So if everything was geographically and physically unchanged, why did it seem so...unique compared to the other, less remarkable days? There was one thing for sure, one thing I knew with absolute certainty and not one ounce of doubt. If the world _had _changed that day, whether in geography, physics or simply in my own mind, the cause of that change could only be _him._

I was sitting by the window, not quite sure when my next _client _was going to show up, enjoying the time I was able to spend alone, free to think of whatever I pleased without any unsavory interruptions. My next _client _was sure to distract me from my thoughts, as whomever could manage to be this late for a scheduled _appointment _was sure to be a handful. My room was pretty simple, a neat bed was situated along the wall to the left of the door, while I sat on the chair near the window opposite it. It wasn't my room as in the room I lived in, but the room I _worked _in. I tended to wait here instead of the lounge with the other girls, preferring to be alone before meeting with my _clients. _The other girls often took my choice to be alone as haughtiness, I knew what they said about me behind my back. That I thought I was better than all of them, and that I didn't feel it necessary to fraternize with people lower than me. It didn't bother me, because I knew - and they did, even if they refused to admit it - that it was true. I _was _better than them. I was the best here at the brothel, the most popular, reserved for the VIP. It wasn't only truth behind the whispers behind my back, but also jealousy.

Jealousy was pathetic, I had long ago decided. I got the high end _clients _because I was skilled, it didn't matter what others said.

Speaking of high end _clients, _this one I was waiting for was supposed to be a major. My boss had gone over it with me beforehand, telling me that this one job was worth more than I was. That it would take a huge chunk out of my debt, that I was to show this man an hour he would never forget. I, of course, smirked, asking him if I had ever let him down before. I hadn't.

I sighed in the silence, wondering how much later this VIP was going to be, I wasn't very patient of a person.

The quiet was nice though, usually it was too noise if anything.

But alas, my sanctuary of silence and solitude was interrupted by voices outside my room.

_"Please forgive my lack of punctuality, there were unresolved matters I had to attend to which were unavoidable,"_

"_Ah, do not fret, for the price your paying, there is no way I could hold it against you. I'm sure it will be well worth they wait, she is my finest, I assure you, Mr Soren."_

"_I have heard a thing or two from my men about her. The opinion seems to be unanimous, I believe 'indescribable' and 'breath taking' to be the most subtle of adjectives used in her case. But of course I will let you know my own personal opinion after I the experience needed to base my conclusion."_

I knew who the second person to speak was, he was none other than the "caretaker" of this set-up, Howard. He preferred to be addressed with the subtle, gentle term, as opposed to the more fitting noun, Pimp. He was a slimy creature with an unfailing poker face, always gentlemanly and professional to others of his kin but when it didn't benefit him, the mask came off and you saw how ugly of a person he really was.

The man he was speaking to was a mystery to me, I knew him to be my next _client _but his voice was foreign. Smooth, charismatic and fluid would be my choice of descriptive words. He sounded all too comfortable and rehearsed, completely believable. I'd be lying to say i wasn't a tad bit apprehensive - not frightened or anxious, I refused point blank to feel those kinds of emotions any more unless justly warranted - to find out exactly what this man I was to entertain was like.

"_Let's not keep you from her any longer, shall we? She's waiting in this room, Mr Soren."_

With that cue, the door to my room opened and in walked - well, more like glided - the start of a new chapter of my life, and out walked whatever vision I had of normalcy in my less-than-normal life. _He, _the man my boss had referred to as Mr Soren, was nothing I had expected. He was tall, if I had to hazard a guess I would estimate about six feet at least, but the way he held himself made him seem taller still. His posse was full of authority and self assurance, it was borderline arrogant-looking. Gentle, rich waves of dark chocolate hair fell down to almost graze his broad shoulders, which, like the rest of his physique, were finely toned. His eyes were so dark, it was difficult to tell the true color of them. He had smooth, flawless ivory skin, his face was completely void of any facial hair, which may have contributed to misleading his age, so I refrained from trying to guess how old he was.

Very attractive, I concluded. Physically, that is, for despite his undeniably good looks-and I admit here that this man was truly stunning-he had something else to him, this Mr Soren. It was almost like an aura of power, of malice, of possession. Not like I hadn't encountered men such as that before, it's just that something seemed different when it came to this one. I couldn't tell what it was, but the power, the self confidence, it was almost crushingly genuine.

But it wasn't just the power that intrigued me, I realized, it was something else _I _felt when I saw him. It felt like...Nostalgia. Border lining on Deja Vu. Had I met this man before? It was unlikely, I was pretty sure I would have remembered him in the vast sea of _clients _I have had in my time here at the brothel. But still, I felt as if this had happened to me before, but I brushed the feeling aside, deciding I'd figure it out later when someone wasn't being paid for my time.

Speaking of paid time, I realized it had been at least one minute since this mysterious man entered my room, hence we had said no greetings nor touched each other. Only had we surveyed the other, it being the first thing I realized we had in common. His expression upon examining me was one of curiosity, and perhaps a dash of well concealed excitement. I slowly rose from my seat, never taking my eyes off Mr Soren, and his eyes followed my every movement, as I rose, as I walked slowly and seductively across the space separating us, my revealing midnight blue silk gown hugging my curves as I walked. When I was about two feet away from Mr Soren, I stopped, putting on a show of looking up and down his well toned body. He was garbed in a white dress shirt, grey jacket, black dress pants and shiny black loafers. All his attire seemed highest quality and screamed power. I smirked, letting my approval of him show.

"Mr Soren, is it?" I asked with fake innocence.

"Professionally, yes. But maybe if you impress me, I'll let you call me by my first name," his voice was soft and silky, but powerful at the same time. I cannot describe in words the smooth power and authority it held, I almost scoffed at it's pretentiousness. I did not let my ridicule show, however, I simply put on a mask of over-exaggerated pleading.

"What, might I ask, would I have to do to earn that honor, Mr Soren?" I raised my hand to gently graze his surprisingly soft lips with my fingertips, earning a tiny, almost unnoticeable shiver from the man in front of me.

"I have no doubt you will be able to think of something that will sway me, but you can start with your name," he said to me, taking his eyes off mine for the first time to carefully observe my own body, leaving not an inch unexplored by his curious eyes. I was a little surprised at his casual presence, his curiosity over idly things like my name. Most of my other _clients_wouldn't have the patience nor the will power to withstand very long before taking me, but this man, this man who so obviously was not immune to my charm, was standing there like he had all the time in the world to enjoy getting to know me. The man was intriguing, I gave him that, but he was just another client. Nothing more or less.

"I can have whatever name you want me to have," I said, slowly moving my fingertips from his lips downward, trailing his fine chin, running along his jawbone, down his neck, stopping at the collar of his expensive dress shirt.

"That's not going to work."

"Why is that?" I asked, now tugging gently at his collar, working my fingers tantalizingly slowly to undo the first button.

"Well, I'm afraid I'm embarrassingly unimaginative when it comes to names, and I would hate to disgrace you with an unworthy name," a small, coy smile spreading on his lips.

"Fine then, my name is Brie,"

I succeeded with the first button, he did nothing but stand there and smile a coy, knowing smile.

"That's not an eloquent name enough for you, think of another,"

I leaned forward, planting a soft kiss upon the flesh I exposed by undoing the button.

"How about Amber?"

He trailed his finger tips along my forearm, across my elbow, along my upper arm...

"No I don't think so, it's too innocent," he said.

I undid the next two buttons if his shirt, exposing my flesh for my manipulation. I was slow and torturous in running my tongue along the smooth, heated skin. I heard his breath hitch ever so slightly.

"Sophie?"

"Too dainty,"

"Sarah?"

"Too common,"

"Jessica?"

"Too girly,"

I looked up at Mr Soren, letting my exasperation show on my face.

"Why don't you just pick a name if your going to be so picky about the matter?" I instantly regretted my words, fearing that I had somehow offended the strange man - not because I had any reservations for his feelings, but because Howard, my boss, had aforementioned to me that this one _job _was worth more than I was to him, and that if I screwed it up, my head would be the one on the chopping block.

But much to my surprise- and relief- Mr Soren didn't seem offended in the slightest by my frustration. He leaned forward, at first I thought he was going to try and kiss me, but he bypassed my lips to brush his own against my ear, sending small shivers in my nerve endings along the side of my face. His voice was lowered to a whisper, as if it was a secret, never losing it's smooth, silky appeal as he spoke to me.

"I don't want a fake name for you...I want your real name."

I managed to maintain my iron hard composure, but I felt like scoffing at the incredulous request.

"Tough luck," I said instead, knowing he wouldn't like the answer but it didn't matter to me. Again, Mr Soren didn't seem phased by my bluntness, on the contrary, he seemed to find it rather amusing.

"Awe, don't be that way. I'll make you a deal, I'll tell you my name and you tell me yours."

"No," I stayed strong willed.

He..._Pouted? _His bottom lip extending a bit, his eyes filling with a puppy dog like pleading, the look was so ridiculous I almost laughed out loud.

"Fine, I guess you won't give in. I won't ask for your name, but you can know mine if you smile for me, now."

I was surprised at his resignation but I didn't show it, instead letting my lips curl upwards into a smile I knew would look genuine and dazzling even though it wasn't from my own emotions. He backed away from me to hungrily devour my smile with his eyes.

"My men were wrong about you, so very, very wrong."

I didn't waver in my expression but inside my pride was taking a tough ride. Hadn't his men said that I was breath taking? Indescribable? What had I done to displease this mysterious man? I trusted in my own abilities, I was deeply offended by his comment. But all I did was raise my eyebrows to show my confusion at his words.

He never explained himself, however, in words that is. The next thing I knew he was grabbing me around the waist, pulling me up to his level. I didn't allow myself a second of shock, wrapping my legs around his waist to better hold me up, and entwining my hands around his neck. This close to him I could see clearly his eyes were the color of dark brown. So dark, they almost looked black. I could feel his hand sliding-intentionally, of course- down my back along the slippery, silk material to rest on my ass while the other hand held me firmly at the waist. _Strong, _I thought. He leaned his head towards me - again I thought he was going to try and kiss me, and if he did he would have another surprise waiting for him - but he bypassed my lips and opted for my ear, again.

I could feel the wetness of his tongue as he ran it along the rim of my ear, sending shivers down my spine and making me gasp. I was seriously starting to wonder why in the fuck would this man get a hooker, he obviously didn't need to pay for pleasure, that was certain. I brought my fingers up to run them sensually through his dark locks, relishing in the unbelievable softness of the chocolate tufts when he spoke to me, his rich, silky voice sending more shivers down my spine. He spoke to me one word, and one word only. I would never forget this moment, the moment I learned of the name which would bring me such pain, confusion and sometimes solace in the years to come, the one name I knew that I would never forget.

"Caine."

I could hold my tongue no longer, my mouth opened and one word slipped out that I would never be able to take back. I had never said it to any of my clients before, holding firm to my resolve, never yielding. So what was it about this man that made me say it? What was it about him that broke down my carefully built defenses with a single word?

"...Diana."

I didn't have much time to dwell on my slip up, for the next second I was being thrown onto the freshly made bed, the beautiful silk sleeping gown torn from my body...

I decided right then and there, I would not let this man plague me with confusion. _I _was the one in control here. _I_ would be the one to make him scream and call the name I so foolishly let slip to him. I would make him suffer in pleasure for breaking down my defenses like that. _He _meant nothing to me, after today I would likely never see Caine Soren again, and my curiosity was not about to make me lose my professionalism.

I grinned devilishly up at Caine, wondering how far I would have to go to make him beg, because I would. This man didn't look very submissive, but then again, I could be very persuasive, if I wanted to be. And I did, I really, really did.

This man was no match for me, I was the best at what I did, and I knew it.

* * *

><p><strong><span>One hour later...<span>**

I lay in the tangled sheets, to exhausted from the various activities that had kept me rather busy over the past hour to rise. Instead I opted to observe my client, Caine, as he redressed himself, readying to leave my room. His hour was up, and if there was one thing to say about that hour, it would be that Mr Soren did not waste paid time. Hence my exhaustion.

Caine. Powerful name, I thought, although my opinion might have been influenced just a tad bit by the powerful aura he seemed to carry around with him. Not to mention his own physical strength and stamina, which I was now very well acquainted with, which could also lead to some bias in my opinion.

Caine _was _strong, I thought. I knew my own stamina was well built over years in the business, and to have him drain my energy like that in just one hour...It was something remarkable.

I watched him pull his now slightly crinkled dress pants up his well defined slim legs, packed with muscle and not an ounce of spare body fat. My eyes traveled upwards, scanning across that chest, relishing at the sight of the flat expanse of smooth, slightly tanned skin covering his beautifully toned six pack. But it didn't stop there, for upwards still lay the long, perfect arms equally defined and toned as the rest of his body.

It made me wonder for what must have been the hundredth time in the past hour. What the hell was this guy doing with me, because there was no way this man would need help in the sexual needs department with his looks and his charm. Why was he paying for his sex? Or was I the exception, simply because he had heard great - not to mention true - things about me and was only curious to see for himself?

He pulled his arms through the sleeves in his shirt, practiced hands doing up the buttons with ease. He spared me one glance before he left me, in his eyes I could see the satisfaction I had brought to him, I gloated on the inside a bit for that. But on his face I could see a few other flitting emotions. Sadness, confusion? Longing? I didn't have time to decipher exactly what it was for a second later, he was gone out the door. Poof.

I wondered if he would come back for more, I knew he enjoyed himself after all. Maybe, and I would never admit this to anyone, but maybe I wanted, just a little bit, for him to come back, so I could see him again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Howard's a pimp, Diana's his hoe, Caine's a mobster...Fucked up huh? Well, my minds fucked up, FYI.**

**Don't like this fic? Go onto my profile, vote on my poll which has a list of possible subject for a one-shot I'm going to write or leave me a request/suggestion in a review or PM me. Or just read my other fics. *Cough* ATTENTION WHORE *Cough***

**But if you really didn't like it, I would really appreciate the knowledge, so drop me a review. Please.**


	2. The Rumor

**A/N: Wow. While reading a long and wonderful review for the first chapter (Courtesy of Atchair *huggles*) I had an epiphany. Afterwards, I scratched my mental draft of the plot line for this story (I never write down the plots, they lose their spark on paper), and it's not like I had much of a plot beforehand but any hoo, the point is, that I now have great and f*cked up ideas as to where this story will go, so if your expecting this to be the run on the mill, prostitute love story, THINK AGAIN, MY FRIEND! Although it still will be a prostitute love story teeheehee**

****Um...so I have been asked about whether or not I would be writing a lemon(s) for this fic and I thought I'd just let ya'll know. I will probably cave and write one or two, but having never written it before, I will be a bit skittish about it. Just be patient with me, kay? I'll most likely write one later in the chapters, if I get encouragement *Winks*****

**Thank you Ociana, TheCheesePidgeon, Atchair, pumpkinpatch212, and Tiffy for reviewing the first chapter XD**

**I hope you don't mind me switching the POVs around. I will make sure to only have one person's POV in each chapter as to not confuse you and it will only be Diana and Caine. Mostly Diana. And I''ll make it apparent who's viewpoint it's in. **

**Without further ado, a chapter in Caine's POV! **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two:<strong>

**The Rumor. **

It's not like I usually take prostitutes. In fact, I could count on one hand the number of times I have actually done anything in forms of payment to satisfy my sexual needs. It wasn't the norm, to be sure, but once in a while I'll find myself not in the mood to humor some random fashion model and left with an itch only a woman can scratch. In those times, I dispel with the usual routine of charming woman into my bed and pay a visit to my dear old friend Howard.

Howard Bassem wasn't much to look at, visually that is. Pretty short for a man, with messy brown hair that never seemed to be very clean. But I knew Howard like the back of my hand, even his million dollar poker face failed to impress me. No matter how hard he tried, I could always read him like a book. Simple man, lived in pride off of other people's plight, usually rubbing their faces in while doing so. He ran an impressive brothel, however, despite the rarity that brothels are these days, and even I have to admit that Howard was a clever man when it came to the underground. Plus, no one dared lay a finger on him with his bulky, pea brained thug, Orc, always by his side. Howard's right hand man, while being incredibly loyal and intimidating, always carried around with him the heavy stench of cheap whiskey and never was fully sober. It made me marvelously grateful that my own right hand - ironically a man whom only possessed on hand of his own - was more reliable and most definitely more lethal than that of Howard's.

Drake. The name had streetwalkers and thugs alike cringing if they knew half the rumors about it's owner. A man, or a demon, as some would call him, one-armed and deadly. Unlike some of the rumors spread on the street, created only to induce fear, most of the rumors about my second in command are entirely true, if anything, they are understated. Why do I trust him? Simply because I know the truth about Drake, that he is only a dog who serves a master, incompetent to survive in the lead himself. I know better than anyone who Drake really is. He's the psychopathic and sadistic fucker that I saved from the bowels of a mental asylum, tamed and leashed for my own personal weapon. Yes, I saved him, and now I know he will do anything to serve me. He's dangerous, yes, so I keep him on a tight leash, only loosening my hold for those I hold no pity for. Drake wouldn't lift finger, or any other appendage for that matter, against me. Dogs don't bite the hand that feeds them, as they say.

But it wasn't from Drake that I first heard of _her. _

From all unlikely places, I first heard about _her _from a thug of mine, Cookie. I had yet to learn why exactly he chose that name for himself but it's not like I cared too much, the guy was a bit of a doofus after all even though I knew he would die for me if the need ever arose. Loyal, but not too bright and tended to overrate things, which is why when he got back from a rather expensive visit to Howard's brothel, I found it hard to take seriously the words of praise simply gushing out of his mouth. He practically was spinning poetry in honor of the whore he spent the previous hour with - something I wish to this day I could erase form my memory.

Even though I may have thought Cookie to be exaggerating about the woman's so called "Allure" and "Mind-blowing skill", some of my other men took him seriously enough to pay a visit themselves. All coming back with nothing whatsoever negative to say about this brothel's princess.

The rumors eventually became too much for me, and I made myself an appointment with _her. _I knew that if my men were wrong about her, I would have more than enough reason to teach them a lesson of not wasting my time-something I would enjoy, very, very much- but if they were true...Well, the situation was pretty much win win, no matter how you sliced it.

Although nothing could have prepared me for what awaited me as I opened that door, the door to _her _room. The door creaked slightly, as if sensing my apprehension and raw excitement. I knew my face portrayed none of the emotions which were whirl winding through me as I set my lustful eyes upon whom had to be, for lack of a less corny way of saying it, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

And I had seen many, many woman in my young life, never have I ever laid my hungry eyes on a woman so appealing to my own taste. She sat peacefully on a chair near a window, the afternoon sun bathing her tanned, smooth skin in it's warm embrace. Skin so smooth, so perfectly contoured, just begging to be kissed and devoured by my lips. She sat at an angle to the door giving me the perfect view of her stunning curves complimented my the midnight blue slip she was garbed in. Dark chocolate waves of soft hair, so rich in color and volume, tumbled down past her breasts, framing her face to form an almost black curtain. She had dark eyes as well, perfect almond shaped eyes, a soft, almost child like nose, and big, delectable lips.

Something inside me interrupted my ogling, a small alert telling me to maintain my composure. I'm sure that had I not been Caine Soren, legendary liar and manipulator, I would have been on the floor, drooling, begging to be taken by this indescribable creature which sat in front of me.

I watched her every move, realizing that while I had been taking in her sight, she had been doing just that for me. She had pulled me into a trance-like state, I would never know how much time I spent just marveling at the mere sight of her, but I eventually remembered this was my _paid _time and I would much rather be spending it doing _other things. _

But first I wanted to know. I wanted to know her name. I wouldn't have been able to describe the impulse I was feeling at the moment, but there was something ungodly familiar about this woman, this whore, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

Slowly, ever so slowly, _she _rose from her seat and walked seductively closer to me, her every move carefully watched by my hungry eyes.

"Mr Soren, is it?" her voice flowed like honey with just enough innocence for me to not believe it. So, this woman was good, perhaps a master of seduction, but I'll be damned if I let her fool me, I thought.

"Professionally, yes. But maybe if you impress me, I'll let you call me by my first name," I knew how pretentious I sounded, but it was in part, a test, to see how much of a poker face she had. God knew I loved to toy with people, I decided that I'd very much like to see her carefully constructed mask shatter leaving her open to me.

"What, might I ask, would I have to do to earn that honor, Mr Soren?" her voice was filled with pleading, her dark eyes took on a puppy dog begging look. I didn't like that, this woman although I knew nothing about her, was above begging, and although I knew this face of false pleading was just that, false, I wanted it gone.

Before I could respond, she raised her hand, letting soft, dainty fingers graze my lips, sending my body shuddering under touch although I kept myself impassive. Those fingers soon left my lips, much to my disappointment, to travel lower, down my chin, ever so slowly.

"I have no doubt you'll be able to think of something that will sway me but you can start with your name,"

I could see a flicker of slight annoyance in her face, mixed with a bit of intrigue, but in a flash, it was gone, replaced with a calm, seductive look.

"I can have any name you want me to have." she said as her hand continued lower, stopped by the collar of my shirt, the small dainty digits moved slowly to undo the first button. The impulse to lunge forward and simply devour this woman was getting stronger with every second of their close proximity.

"That's not going to work." I said, keeping my smooth voice even though my lust was threatening to break free from my practiced hold.

"Why is that?"

"Well, I'm afraid I'm embarrassingly unimaginative when it comes to names, and I would hate to disgrace you with an unworthy name." It was bogus but I was so skilled at the delicate art of deception that I could lie flawlessly upon improvisation. But then again, it may have been a twinge bit true...

"Fine then, my name is Brie."

No, it wasn't, was the first thought that popped into my head.

"That's not an eloquent name enough for you. Think of another." I commanded, partially just to observe her reaction.

She had by now undone three buttons on my shirt, the tantalizing woman leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on the exposed flesh on my chest, sending small shivers down my spine.

"How about Amber?" she asked, her breath clinging to my heated skin as she spoke.

I couldn't stay motionless any longer, or rather, I didn't want to, so I lightly traced an invisible line up her slender arm, barely tickling her nerves with the lightest of pressure. Her skin was as smooth as it looked - no, smoother...

"No, I don't think so. It's too innocent."

I felt the soft, moist heat of her tongue as she lapped my chest lightly between the opened buttons. It felt a lot better than it should have, I was certainly not inexperienced.

"Sophie?"

"Too dainty,"

"Sarah?"

"Too common,"

"Jessica?"

"Too girly."

She looked up at me with frustration, which I remarked to be the first completely genuine emotion she allowed herself to show to me. I enjoyed to see her flustered, even if it was only slightly and well masked.

"Why don't you just pick a name if your going to be so picky about the matter?" she asked, then immediately afterwards a look of slight fear and regret passed by in a flicker. She was probably scared that I was offended. I didn't hold the illusion that she was actually worried about my feelings, she probably just didn't want to royally fuck up a job as important as me.

Second slip up, I thought. Her resolve was strong, granted, but I was the manipulator here, and gods only knew how much I liked, no, loved, to fuck with people before I actually fucked them.

I leaned in, noting the small twitch her face made away from my own-one which she probably wasn't even aware she made- and I got the message. No kissing. That was fine with me, for now at least, and I was sure that if I wanted a kiss, I would have no trouble swindling one out of her. Instead I moved so my lips barely grazed her ear lobe, our cheeks just an inch away from touching.

"I don't want a fake name for you...I want your real name."

"Tough luck."

I wasn't fazed by the answer, because I had both expected it, and wanted it. I salivated at the thought of a challenge.

"Awe, don't be that way," I said, drawing back to look into her large eyes. "I'll make you a deal, I'll tell you my name if you tell me yours."

"No."

I could feel myself getting harder with every refusal she gave me...Which was odd, since I usually liked it when people resigned to my will. Oh well, I was enjoying this too much to really look into it. So I simply continued the game, putting on my best but rather corny pout, knowing I had to get her to warm up a bit.

"Fine, I guess you won't give in. I won't ask for your name but you can know mine if you smile for me, now."

I outwardly signed my resignation, but inwardly kept the game alive and going strong. It was a simple strategy to win, let the enemy think they won.

She didn't show surprise, simply letting a wide, drop dead gorgeous smile stretch her lips, I took in the sight, memorizing every detail and contour. Something so simple, so beautiful, so _familiar, _I found I just could get enough of the look. I decided then that I loved seeing her smile, the expression just looked so sacred even though I was but one in the sea of men and women who had shared this beauty. Upon seeing this smile, something stirred inside me, but what was it? Territory, probably, my own possessiveness getting the better of me. Another reason I nearly never took hookers, when I had something I liked, I didn't care to share it. But I had never felt possessiveness this strong before, but I brushed it aside, it was probably only because I had never been with a whore this beautiful before.

I tossed aside confusion emotions, I'd work them out later.

"My men were wrong about you, so very, very wrong."

I knew this would confuse her, but I would show her what I meant. That I meant that despite their best efforts, there was no way in the smoldering ashes of hell that my thugs could ever describe this woman and do her the justice she deserved.

So I would show her my contentment with her, but that didn't mean I was done with our game. I would win, I always did.

I wrapped both my arms around her slender frame, pulling her up to my eye level, which she returned by wrapping her legs around my waist, clinging to my neck with her dainty hands. I leaned forward again, letting my tongue dart in and tickle her ear lobe, savoring her taste, it was getting me even more aroused. Whispering in her ear, low pitched, like a secret, and I told her my name.

"Caine."

Almost immediately after I did, the whore in my arms let a single word spill out of her mouth, a borderline moan, but I would never forget that one word.

"Diana."

_I win. _And I grinned like the manipulative son of a bitch that I was.

But the time for games was over, two seconds later, _Diana _was on the bed, me, hovering over her. That damn slip, no matter, for it would soon be discarded with.

* * *

><p><strong><span>One hour later...<span>**

I rose quickly from the bed, wanting to get my clothes on and get out of this room. I wasn't sure yet as to why, but being in the same room as Diana was confusing, I needed to clear my head.

Not that I was complaining about the past hour...In. The. Slightest.

I found that continuously throughout the hour of my _visit_ I was constantly being surprised by this marvelous woman. Just when I thought she couldn't get any better, just when I was thinking that _it _couldn't possibly be better, she pulled another trick out of her sleeve. It took me the entire first round to realize that our competitive games had never stopped, and that even the sex had turned into an aggressive display of skills.

...That is probably the best competition I can name, I decided.

I finished dressing, noticing that Diana was watching me, me somehow feeling a bit unnerved by it. Which just made me more confused. No one, I repeat, no one, makes me feel nervous. No one alive, that is. Yet the thought of causing this woman harm brought an unpleasant feel to my stomach.

I needed out, so sparing Diana one last glance, I swiftly left her, closing the door gently as I left.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: No, no lemons for you lovelies...yet...*Giggles*. I need encouragement if I'm gonna write that hot stuff, so order me to, and I probably will. **

**Also, I wrote this while listening to Justin Timberlake. I don't usually listen to that but it felt like the proper mood to get into...Who else thinks Caine brings sexy back? **

**Review? **


	3. The Effect

**A/N: ****I want you guys to be involved with this story. I am going to be adding a lot of characters from the books and placing them here and there as, I guess you could call it "guest acting", although prominent people like Drake will be recurring. So, please, when you review (And I hope you do review), you just need to let me know which character you would like in this story and I will hopefully find a place for him/her. Obviously don't ask about characters I've already mentioned, nor Sam, because I already have him figured out.**

**You guys are amazing, especially:**

**Nicole Rayne, pumpkinpatch212, Atchair, xXxhiddenangelxXx, dreamcatcher96, xoxMissYummaliciousxox, and bloodsucker101**

**for reviewing on chapter two.**

**Oh, and there's lime-ish stuff in this chapter. And maybe...Just maaaaaaaybe, there miiiiight be a lemon in the next chapter...*Grins mischievously***

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

**The Effect**

_...She hovered over me, deep chocolate eyes half closed in lust, dark mahogany hair tumbled from her head, curtaining around our faces, tickling my hyper sensitive flesh before she pulled her sinful hands away from my chest to drape that rich, soft hair over one shoulder. She lowered herself closer to me as our bodies rocked rhythmically and perfectly in sync, each thrust bringing another heated wave of extreme pleasure, flooding through my veins. Heat pulsing and my heart beating loudly to me, filling my eardrums with the fast beat, only out heard by her moans of __ecstasy.__ I, only half coherent, wrapped my arms around the incredible body on top of me, clawing into her back. I could feel her hardened nipples as they grazed my chest, moving with her movements, intensifying the moment._

_I got sick of receiving, I wanted to be in control. So I rolled us over, me on top now, me. I would play rough and wild because I knew she liked that, and I had no problem with it. I smirked down at her, seeing the lust and the want in her gleaming eyes, a thin layer of sweat gave her skin a slight sheen and was hot, moist to the touch. She_ _was fucking gorgeous, god, I would take her so high, I will claim her as mine, I will show her that there is no one who can pleasure her like I can. No one but me. But first I wanted something else, so I lowered down to her, her panting breaths heating my face before I captured her lips with my own..._

I opened my eyes slowly, ever so slowly and hesitantly. Gods above knew I didn't want to leave the dream I was having, but my internal clock refused to hear my wishes. It was still early, and even though I knew I had woken up beyond the point of which I could fall back into slumber's sweet embrace, I clung onto the dream, still completely- visibly too I might add- aroused.

...Wait, aroused?

Something clicked inside of me, a warning, a flare. I was dreaming about that whore, Diana, wasn't I? I revisited the dream, forcing back the ever fading experience into my mind as I struggled to remember the details of my mental escapade. Even though the dream was fast leaving me, there was no doubt, not a sliver nor hint of doubt that is was indeed Diana whom had been the subject of my latest fantasy.

So...I had been having a wet dream about a hooker...Big deal? She was hotter than a blow torch, and in bed...Though only with her for only one hour, that ho had managed to impress even the talented me between the sheets. So what if I had a dream about her, it didn't mean anything consequential.

Well, my erection said otherwise. I mentally cursed my own body, offended by the tell tale signs of arousal which stood up from underneath the sheet. I sighed, knowing that the body's will and the mind's were of two very different aspects, sometimes sporting completely separate opinions, like they did now. My mind was refusing any thought of the talented sex giver, yet my body, foolishly reacting to even the mere thought of the woman.

I practically snarled at the confusion, getting out of bed, throwing the sheets off me to stand completely nude in my sizable bedroom. Wiping sleep from my eyes, I trudged towards the en-suit, hoping a cold shower would rid me of this thrice cursed nuisance between my legs.

I stepped into the cool water, letting the cold send shivers down my spine as trickles found their way through my hair and down my arms and legs. I didn't fight the discomfort that the cold water brought, in fact, I embraced it as my ally in the fight against the urges of my own selfish body.

...A fight which I was loosing.

I groaned, switching the setting on the shower so warmer liquid was flowing around me and I began to jack myself off, letting my body win this time. I started with slow strokes, letting in the images that haunted me fill my mind to aid in making this as quick as possible. Diana's face, her long brunette hair tangled in my fingers, her eyes filled with passion and ecstasy. I quickened my movements, stifling moans as I imagined Diana's body, flawless, slender but curvaceous. I imagined her own, sinful hands touching herself, bringing us both pleasure. It didn't last too long, thankfully, and I came quickly with a muffled cry.

* * *

><p>About two hours later, I was clean, dressed and inside my BMW, heading towards what had the potential to be quite a dull and uneventful day. I wasn't looking forward to it; ever since my lost battle in the shower this morning I had this niggling feeling in my gut. It was so easy for me to get distracted, for even the slightest of fleeting thoughts of women with dark hair and eyes having me completely off track of whatever I was doing at the time. It wasn't like me to be so affected my a mere woman, and I most certainly didn't like it. Most men would have been beside themselves with joy that they were blessed enough to have the experience of a woman like Diana; I wasn't most men.<p>

I liked to be in control. There wasn't anything else to it, I liked to control- no, I _needed _to be in control of everything I could, starting with my own body. I was the master of self control, it was the key reason I could lie so convincingly and fluently with very little effort on my part. I controlled my subordinates with pain and punishment when they slipped up and rewarded them when I was impressed. Well, in my defense, I wasn't impressed often.

But this...Anything to do with my manly urges, natural and explainable urges, I couldn't control as well, and that frustrated me. I was in no way a person who would deny themselves pleasure, in fact I took pride in indulging in pleasurable activities on a frequent basis, but there was a time and a place for everything. Whenever my body demanded something at the improper time or place, I usually could control myself well enough. So why couldn't I this morning? It was a dilemma, to me, for even someone as captivating as that whore was shouldn't be able to get to me the way she did.

My thoughts were interrupted by a sudden lurch, and I was jolted forward as the car came to a fast halt.

"What's your problem?" I asked none to softly to my driver, not really in the mood to get killed in a car accident today. Although it _would _make my day a bit more interesting...

"I'm so sorry, sir, this girl just walked out onto the street, I-I apologize, sir, for the sudden stop-she wasn't even looking-I would have h-hit her!" My driver stammered, obviously afraid of my temper. Righteously.

But I didn't listen to the rest of the mumbles coming from the driver's seat, as I stepped out of the car and onto the pavement. Luckily, it wasn't a very busy street, my own car being the sole vehicle at the time. I walked around to the front and spotted the reason for our sudden delay.

The girl- well, to be fair, she was a young woman, definitely eighteen at least- was reasonably tall, blonde shoulder length hair whipped around her neck in the cool breeze, complimenting her sky blue eyes. She was reasonably, no, more than reasonably, she was _very _attractive, especially looking as frightened as she did, panicking frantically over the mess of items she must have dropped upon sight of the approaching car.

"I-I'm- Oh my god, I can't believe I-I'm so sorry, I didn't even see your car until just now- good lord I-"

I held up a hand to pause her blubbering speech, my face showing to signs of anger but held a calm, reassuring look.

"Don't worry about it. Are you hurt at all?" I asked, perfectly gentlemanly.

"N-no, I'm fine." she said. Upon closer inspection I could clearly see dark circles around her eyes, she looked like hell, I thought, but I didn't say it. "I't was just a fright, that's all, really," She said as she bent down to recover her possessions.

"Here, let me help," I said, and I picked up a couple of the objects on the pavement. Books; big, heavy textbooks. I scanned the covers of the ones I held, one said "Complete history of the Roman Empire: Volume three" and the other was an advanced calculus book. I was slightly amused by this, after all, someone who could juggle completely irrelevant history _and_advanced math at the same time was sure to be at the very least, interesting. I handed the heavy books back to her, wondering how her back could support all that dead weight.

"Thank you, I'm really sorry again. I'm just, with finals approaching I'm in a million places at once and-_god _I almost got hit by a car!" I resisted the urge to laugh a her exclamation, as if she just realized she was close to literally being in a million places at once.

"My name is Caine," I said smoothly, reaching out my hand to shake hers, amazing me with her ability to hold about half a dozen university scale textbooks in one arm.

"Um...Um..." she muttered distractedly, as if trying to remember something, "Oh, A-Astrid, Astrid Ellison.'

"Nice to meet you, Astrid."

"Um, you too."

There was a loud and rather obnoxious beeping noise in the otherwise quiet air, and Astrid withdrew her hand from mine to pull out a small electronic from her pocket. Upon seeing the beeping thing, Astrid's eyes widened and she gasped.

"Shitshitshitshit- I mean shoot- I mean- uh, I gotta run!"

And she was off with a frantic jog.

"Hey, be careful in the future!" I called out to her playfully, not really caring either way if she got hit by another car.

"I will!" She called back, turning to flash me a pretty smile before taking off in a blur of blonde hair.

I pondered the girl as I got back into my car, my driver resuming the trip without a word.

Astrid Ellison. The name meant little to me, an unnecessary word in my memory I would be free to forget. But it wasn't the girl in particular that had me confused right now, it was the fact that I felt little to absolutely no interest in her whatsoever. I could clearly see her attraction, with her fine, almost glittering golden hair and smooth porcelain skin, she was a hottie for sure. Yet I found it difficult to imagine myself pursuing her. In fact, I was mainly using my gentleman act on her just to test the waters. I was an opportunist and I knew it, and a run in like the one I had with that girl would have been the prime time to get some. Would, not was, for try as I might, I found no interest in her, and that had me irked.

I shrugged it off, not planning to spend hours obsessing over a simple matter of disinterest. A ringing noise sounded through the quiet hum of the vehicle, and I extracted my phone from my suit pocket. Seeing the call display, I immediately answered, knowing my second in command would never bother me for idle matters.

"Drake, what is it?"

"Boss, we ran into a slight...Interruption when we were transporting the goods this morning."

"You got caught?" I asked, my voice rising slightly. My business was, let's just say it was less than strictly speaking, _legal_. One thing I prided myself on was running my operations completely under the radar of the authorities. I knew and trusted my subordinates to operate smoothly and covertly, not keeping discreet the punishment that would result from failure.

"He's only a security guard, we got him nice and tied up here, the guy has no idea what he stumbled on..._do you? Pathetic!"_

"Drake, do I need to remind you of the importance of the job your doing? Discretion is key, Drake, no exceptions."

"You got it boss, I knew you'd say that."

"Then why are you calling me, Drake? Your perfectly adequate enough to fix such a simply problem, why do you bother me with this?"

"Well, I thought I'd let you know who it was that slipped up. Who it was who knocked over a whole stack of boxes and tipped the guard off to where we were working. Just to make sure the proper justice was ensued and all..."

I raised my eyebrows, curious to know which of my men would be requiring a lesson in the art of discretion.

"Who was it, Drake?"

"Cookie, boss. Should I take care of the... Reprimanding myself?"

"Yes, Drake, see to it that it doesn't happen again..." I started before revising, changing my mind, "On second thought, Drake, dispose of the problem and finish your task, but save the punishment for back at headquarters. I want to be there."

"You got it, boss."

The last thing I heard before hanging up was a muffled scream and a gunshot. Sighing, putting my phone away, I interlocked my fingers, thinking about how in a few short hours, I would be witnessing the installment of discipline in my ranks. Something that I always found interesting, if not quite as enjoyable as I knew Drake would find it.

* * *

><p>I arrived at headquarters, the base of operations for my "Business". It was an impressive place, to be sure, and while I controlled many such properties across the state, this place was my finest.<p>

On the outside, it was a grand casino hotel, decadent and classy, a marvelous spectacle to behold in itself. It was truly an amazing place, a wonder for gamblers everywhere.

But under the casino, in a massive expanse of rooms all security protected, is where the real games are played.

I walked from my car to a door on the side of the building. Away from the flashy main entrance, this door was plain, save for the black and yellow sign warning that authorized personnel only were allowed to enter. I entered and walked a ways down a quiet, grey hallway, aware that two security guards were watching my movements via cameras. Should an unauthorized person attempt to enter HQ, they wouldn't get further than three meters before someone came to intercept them. Soon I came to another set of doors, where I entered a password into a keypad to the left of the doors, and proceeded on my way. Through the doors was another simple hallway, only this one was riddled with various doors and turn offs.

This was my base of operations, were only the highest of my ranks were permitted to roam, where, for lack of a better phrase, all the fun happens.

"Yo! Boss, looking sharp, as always."

I turned around to see my second in command approaching me, looking tired from being out most of the night on my orders but he still commanded that same sneering, energetic look he always carried around. Drake wasn't really someone you could describe to a stranger, you just had to see him to know him. With his dirty blonde hair and his rather lanky, almost scrawny appearance, he didn't look very threatening. But it was in his facial expressions that sent people cringing. His eyes were always opened wide in an eager, inquisitive look. He like to grin lots, showing all his teeth in a knowing, apprehensive manner. Always seemingly excited, Drake was the embodiment of crazed madness.

The people who actually knew how mad Drake really was were few. Alive, that is. I was one of them, having plucked my minion out of the bowels of a mental asylum myself almost seven years ago, when we both were but nineteen years old.

Drake always wore a baggy trench coat several sizes too large for his skinny frame, only ever showing his left hand and arm, keeping his other side completely concealed in the dark fabric. Lesser people thought it was to hide the fact that he only possessed one arm, the other having been severed off by some unknown incident. I knew better.

"Drake, your back early. I didn't expect you for another few hours."

"The mission got boring after I killed the guard, I left the rest to Dekka. She can handle it alright, besides, I wanted to get that pathetic excuse for a thug, Cookie, back so we could get started on the, er... Disciplining."

I studied the man in front of me, knowing all too well that while Drake was by far my most dangerous disciple, he also had a tendency to get bored when things went completely according to plan. Drake liked that which was similar to him, and that was chaos. It was the reason I kept close tabs on the man, knowing he would never betray me on purpose, but also full aware of his temperamental and aggressive personality.

"Dekka is more than able, but in the future you are not to abandon a task until its completion unless otherwise specified by me, do you understand me, Drake?"

Drake only raised an eyebrow, obviously peeved at my superior manner, but I didn't care as long as the message got through. I wanted to reprimand him now, before we saw to Cookie, hence forth Drake would be so enthralled in the pleasure of inflicting pain, no words I said would get through to him then. But I didn't draw this out, for we were both eager to get on with the punishment.

Drake led me to a room near the west section of headquarters, where he had left Cookie earlier. I smirked slightly at the thought of my thug, sitting helplessly in this room, alone with the knowledge that he screwed up and almost blew the entire operation. It was the way I ran things here, I saw to it that my own men were only slightly less afraid of me than my enemies were. To provoke my anger would result in the loosening of Drake's leash...Tony Gilder, also known as Cookie, was about to find out just what that meant.

Drake stopped short of opening the door, an unspoken request was asked as his right shoulder twitched slightly, apprehensively

"Feel free to use it, Drake. Just make sure this doesn't happen again."

Drake smiled wickedly, openly pleased with my answer and opened the door wide for both of us to enter. Tony sat on a stool in the center of the room, the stool being the sole furnishing among the grey walls of the soundproofed room.

"Cookie, Cookie, Cookie..." Drake taunted as he circled Tony, who was trembling slightly, looking at the ground.

I didn't approach my subordinates, however, I simply stood near the door, folding my arms.

"Look at me," I commanded Tony, who tentatively raised his head, visibly trying to appear unafraid, and failing. "You have displeased me, Tony Gilder," I remarked, knowing there need be no other explanation.

Drake completed his circling, moving in front of Tony, he began to slide his trench coat off his left shoulder. He used his one hand to pull the garment off completely, throwing it away to the side, leaving his right side exposed to Tony's view.

This was the reason I wanted to be here, the reason I had Drake bring Tony to HQ for his punishment. The raw an undiluted truth was that I love to see the pure shock, amazement and disbelief that flooded faces as the true nature of Drake's right arm was revealed. Contrary to popular belief, what lied behind the folds of his coat was not a stump where an arm should be, but rather a different, more horrifying appendage. Uncurling itself, it spread almost to Drake's knee, far longer than an arm.

It was a whip. Red-brown in color, smooth like a snake, twitching, begging to be noticed and used.

I enjoyed Tony's expressions of disbelief and horror for a minute or two, before turning to leave, my part done.

"Oh, and Drake," I said just before leaving the room.

"What, Caine?" Drake said, irritated at my interruption, wanting to get started.

"No more than five lashes, I'll be talking to Dahra, I'll know."

With those words, I left, closing the thick, soundproof door behind me.

* * *

><p>An hour later, I was speaking to my medic, Dahra Baidoo, about the condition of one Tony Gilder.<p>

"The gashes are deep, but with stitches he will heal, in time."

I nodded, not really concerned with him, but wondering if Drake had followed my orders and stuck with only five strikes. I rather doubted it.

"Dahra, how many separate lashes did Cookie have?"

"Fourteen, including the smaller cuts."

I nodded disinterestedly. I didn't expect Drake to contain himself completely, but he had come a long ways when it came to controlling himself. There was once a time when he would block everything else out when torturing someone, to him, in those days, nothing else existed but inflicting pain and anguish. He would become so absorbed in it, that I would have to physically stop him before he killed whomever it was. Sometimes I wasn't able to stop him in time.

But now, after years of training with me, Drake had regained some manner of self control, and if anything, it had made him more dangerous. I dismissed Dahra, voices from around the corridor catching my attention.

"...She's somethin' else, I assure ya."

"Yeah? But so damn expensive, are you sure a simple fuck is worth _that _price?"

"It's beyond worth it, trus' me. Disappointmen' ain't even a word with _her."_

I wondered who they were speaking of, something in my gut told me it was Diana, and that same thought, the thought of anyone other than me touching her gave me sour taste in my mouth and a knot in my gut. Whether it was possessiveness or jealousy of a bit of both, I couldn't tell, but I didn't care.

I wouldn't have for this. My men were pigs, I knew it well. I wouldn't have them...I just wouldn't!

I made my presence known to them with one false cough, all three of the chatting men turning to see me, bowing their head respectively.

"What are we talking about, gents?" I asked lightly, although inside I was much less calm.

The thugs exchanged looks with each other, before one spoke up.

"We's takin' about Bassem's prize whore. Tried her myself, Boss, highly recommen' it-"

"Well, I don't. You are all forbidden to arrange meetings with her, and don't think you can do so without my knowledge. Because I will know, and I will install punishment on those who disobey me on this matter. Do you understand?"

All three of them looked rather surprised by my words, and frightened by my tone, so I raised my eyebrows impatiently, waiting for response.

"Yes, sir." they all responded.

I nodded in approval, taking my leave before any other words spilled out of my mouth. What was that? What in the world would prompt me to...I didn't even plan on forbidding them when I asked who they were talking about, but when I heard the way that one thug was speaking about her, like a piece of trash, to be used and disposed of, it made me sick despite myself. I felt...I felt...

...Possession.

Jealousy...

Damn it! One hour with her was definitely a mistake! I should never have gone to her, I should never have subjected myself to this confusion!

No, the mistake was only spending one hour with her. So little time, perhaps my appetite for her wasn't fully quenched yet, perhaps I needed more...What could one more visit harm?

No, a mistake. Definitely a mistake, don't do it, don't do it!

I angrily hit the wall beside me in a sudden act of violence, then looked up and down the hall to make sure no one saw. I groaned, knowing I had made up my mind about the matter long ago.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Howard's number.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yeah, I know it was a long chapter. Chapters in this story will be long, it's just going to be that kind of story.**

**There will be a lemon in the next chapter.**

**I want cyber cookies.**


	4. The Memory

**A/N: Erm...Kinda got some bad news. This chapter does not have a lemon in it. I'm sorry for the disappointment, I wanted to add it right at the end of this but I felt bad for the wait and I already had like, 4'000 words so I just decided to post this chapter. The next chapter will have the lemon, and when you read until the end of this one, you'll see why I really can't escape that truth. At least, I hope you'll read to the end *sweatdrop***

**Also, thank you to all the PM messages telling me to get my rear in gear. Much appreciated!**

**You know who you are, you are the wonderful people who reviewed on chapter three:**

****Nicole Rayne, bloodsucker101, Atchair, pumpkinpatch212, dreamcatcher96, xoxMissYummaliciousxox, FreakyWeird.****

****I realized I haven't been placing disclaimers on the previous chapters, but in the case that anyone thinks that, due to my negligence, I was implying in any way that I actually owned the Gone franchise, I correct you now. I do not own Gone, if I did, I wouldn't be on _Fan_Fiction. ****

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Chapter Three<strong>**

****The Memory****

_I buried my face in my pillow, afraid that if I ever rose from my fetal crouch, huddled in the dark, I would see the face that haunted me, always there, always angry. Why was he always so angry? Why did he make us so scared? Why, why, _why? _So many of my questions were left unanswered, even after years of asking. I never asked _him_, we didn't do such stupid things, we knew better. We always did everything we could...Everything. We always did everything we could think of to make _him _not angry, nothing we did ever seemed to make even the slightest of differences. Always, so angry, so angry at us. _

_My heart thumped inside my chest like an angry clock, the fear dripped through me making my chest feel tight and painful as the rage-filled yells and the frightened screams continued down the hall. Fear was so painful, so tight, why did it seem like everything in life hurt so bad? Fear hurt, it burns and chills me from the inside out and there is no escape from it. Why does fear have to hurt? Another question, I thought as I listened unwillingly to a sharp crack that sounded like a belt. Belts hurt...Another hurt, another way to feel pain. _

_"...P-please..."_

_I listened, not having a choice, to those pain-filled pleads. It was times like this that made me wish I was born without ears. If I had no ears, I wouldn't have to listen, I wouldn't have to know when belt connected with flesh, I wouldn't be huddled in my closet, head sandwiched in my pillow, lying on the cold and unforgiving wooden floor. The floor was so cold, and dirty too but I didn't care. The only thing I could imagine feeling better than the cold, dirty floor was mommy's arms, and that would never happen again. _

_I heard footsteps. Someone was coming up the stairs. Clank, clank, clank...Someone was coming down the hall. Someone, someone _someone!_ It was _him_, he was coming to my room, he was almost at the door. He was right there, right _there!_ Right there on the other side of the flimsy door, I could hear the shocks of his boot-clad feet. Clank, clank, clank, I could hear the doorknob creak-_

I opened my eyes with a start. My heart was beating a mile a minute, and my breathing was ragged and broken. My body was cold and shivering in the thin layer of cold sweat, despite the warmth the slightly damp sheets gave. I just lay there, for one minute, for another, not daring to get up and out of the sanctuary the darkness gave me. I couldn't move, I couldn't feel anything but the fear, caused by the after effects of the dream. Of the nightmare.

Of the memory.

Fuck. I was so stupid, so fucking stupid. How could I let myself do this, again and again? It was pointless, it was pathetic, it was not me! I wasn't that anymore, I wasn't that frightened little girl. What was the point on dwelling on the past, no matter how fucked up it was? Why could I just forget all those memories that come back, always there, in the mind? They'de done enough for me already, why couldn't they just leave!

I took a couple of calming breaths, willing my heart to slow down to a pace that didn't force me to choke on the air. It helped a little, but I was far to awake now to fall back into slumber. Fuck, I needed this sleep, I had work tomorrow and Howard would not be pleased if I came in with bags under my eyes and exhausted from lack of sleep. I always needed every second of sleep I could manage, but that wasn't always easy. Especially with the memories that haunted me during my most vulnerable time. Back-stabbing, bloodthirsty and seemingly insatiable memories of the past. The fucking past. It was over, gone, poof, but always present, never fully resigning, never completely gone.

It was over, and that was the point. No matter how much I dreamt of that time, no matter how many times I swore I saw _his _face in a crowd or how vividly I remembered the pain, it. Was. Over.

Feeling a little calmer, I raised a shaky arm to dispel of the sheet and let the cool night air surround me. It felt nice, like what some people might describe the comforting touch of a lover feeling like. Not that I believed in silly things like that the caress of a lover could rid oneself of all worries, that romantic bullshit belonged in the cheesy romance novels only. Such nonsense. At least for me, that is. If there was one thing I had learned over the years, it was that there was no such solace for dirty whores. No walking off into the sunset, no one who would ever fully understand and accept you. No one would want a woman, no matter how beautiful, who had been with more men than she had days of high school. No one. There would always be something, something about you that was imperfect, something that was broken and shattered. Lucky for me, I didn't have to wonder about which part of me was broken. All of me was. Dirty, broken, shattered and mangled, beyond that which anyone would want any part of. And that was all there was to it. I had long ago accepted that fact, so now I only observed it with a numb indifference. If a thing such as true love, then it would be something I would never experience. I couldn't say I cared. I _wouldn't_.

Just as I thought I was feeling better, the room started to feel stuffy and hot. I became restless, flinching at the noises coming from the room next to me.

_"...Ngh...Aah..."_

Great. Just fan-fucking-tastic. Now here I was, awakened by a silly dream, forced to listen to my neighbors going at it when that's the last thing I want to hear right now.

_"...Aah...I l-love you!"_

That's it. Those damn words, those fucking words. The room was getting more stuffy by every second I was forced to listen to the moaning through the walls. It was a strange concept, those three simple words. I'd said them before, to many men, but those were just sick little fantasies, lonely fantasies. I was paid to make men believe whatever they wanted, whether it was that I loved them or just to simply fuck them. I preferred the latter.

My breathing was increasing again, my emotions were everywhere. Anger, sadness, and a dozen others I couldn't identify.

I slowly rose from my bed, my legs a little shaky but holding me up nevertheless. In the dark, I made my way across my tiny bedroom to the door. I didn't bother to even turn on the light, just leaving the claustrophobia-inducing room as soon as I could.

I walked in a hurried frenzy, not really paying attention to where I was heading, I just knew I needed to walk to stop my mind from going into overdrive. All I could hear through the blood pumping through my veins was my own terrified screams or the footsteps I knew where made by my own feet but sounded and resonated to closely to _his. His. HIS! _

I took a few calming breaths, in out, in out...My heart was still beating far to fast to be comfortable but at least now it was thumping at a pace which allowed me to think in the present. Where was I? I looked around, finding myself in the hallway of my apartment. I mentally reprimanded myself for letting my fright carry me away like this. Stupid, _careless, _reckless! I looked down at myself, and only adding to my embarrassment finding out I was wearing only a loose fitting shirt and a baby blue set of underwear. I was lucky is was some godforsaken hour in the night and no one seemed to be out in the hallway of the crumbling apartment.

I quickly made my way back to my own apartment, passing by peeling wallpaper and the odd graffiti message. So what, I lived in a dump, what else could be expected of someone who fucks scumbags for a living? I was still deciding what part of my life seemed less torturous, now or _then. _I hurried inside my door, still opened from my escape minutes earlier, and noticed a piece of paper tapped the outside of the door.

_RENT!_

I tossed the note aside casually, not paying it much mind to the rather rude reminder of my lack of finances from my landlord. Late on my rent? Absolutely, but why worry about things you could do nothing about? Yeah, I have the money, but I felt like withholding it because I enjoy the lovely reminders you give me just so much. Tch, as if.

Closing and locking my door, I sighed and walked over to my fridge. It wasn't a long walk, considering my apartment consisted of a main room containing a mini fridge, sink and a tiny counter, a bathroom and a bedroom. Fairly depressing but I was beyond use to it by now.

I looked in the fridge, regarding the lack of any kind of edible sustenance with a mild indifference. Food was so overrated. Opting for a glass of water instead of dwelling on my almost constant hunger, I allowed myself a moment to completely rid myself of the after effects of my night terror before heading back to bed to salvage whatever hours of sleep I still could. God knows I needed every second of rest I could scrounge, even if it was spent tossing and turning in amidst the shadows of memories I wished futilely I could forget.

* * *

><p>After seemingly hours of restlessly changing positions on my rather stiff mattress, I finally fell into an uneasy sleep only to be awoken what seemed like minutes later by the resonating chime of my cell phone.<p>

"...Fucking hell," I cursed before throwing aside the sheets and got up, adding a few other colourful additions to my previous sentiment on my way over to where the noisy, surely evil object lay on the floor. It wasn't like I had a damn table to put my cell phone on.

"What," I said flatly into the device, irked that I was interrupted in my sleep for the second time that night, this time by something I could actually take it out on.

"_Now, Diana, is that any way to greet the person the most generous to you in your life?" _

My breath hitched. Howard. Cursing myself for not checking the caller ID before answering, knowing that Howard could make my life a living hell if he felt so inclined. I had endured Howard's forms of punishment before and I had no wish to ever repeat that experience. Ever. It seemed I was getting far too careless for my own good lately.

"I d-didn't know it was you..." I mumbled, hoping he would just let it go.

"_Whatever- I'm far to happy right now to be mad at you, Diana. Wanna know what it is that's making me so happy?"_

I inwardly groaned, hating the tone Howard was now using. That tone, I knew that tone, it always appeared alongside an opportunity. And opportunity to make more money. In Howard's life, things were really that simple.

"Um, wha-"

"_I just got a call from a very well-endowed patron of ours, isn't that exciting?"_

"If you sa-"

"_He said he wants another arrangement! Isn't that great?" _

_"_It's great Howard, but why are you calling me for this? You could have just told me when I come in later-"

_"Because he wants the meeting today! You're going to have to come in early to get ready, my dear, so I expect to see you in no less than half an hour - but I assume that's no problem, Right?"_

I bit my lip in effort to contain all the venomous words that threatened to spill from my mouth. Of course it was no problem, after all, I had no right to have a problem with anything Howard dictated. Anything I wanted to say to the contrary would matter little and just end up with more trouble for me. He _owned _me.

"No, Howard, of course it's no problem."

"_Good, so I'll see you soon? Great, see ya!"_

"No, wait- Howard, who did you say it was?"

"-_Come in a see for yourself!"_

Dial tone.

Fuck.

* * *

><p>In exactly thirty four minutes, I was walking into what felt like my second home. Not home in the sense that it was the place my 'heart' felt at ease, or the place where loved ones reside, but simply my home as in the place I spend more time than I care too at. I walked into the small, clustered dressing room that served as the place the girls would slip into tiny pieces of fabric barely covering their intimate parts, touch up their over exaggerated make-up or adjust their wigs - whatever they thought would make them stand out from the rest of the crowd, to gain the attention that would bring them the money to supply them with food, alcohol or drugs. Sometimes a particular costumer would request a certain outfit, pertaining to some twisted fantasy that person could fulfill for a price. Either way, this was the place, the perfume and smoke scented room with cracked walls and cigarette butts still alight, the room full of mirrors and hangers which hung all sorts of glittery attire, feathers and silk.<p>

Right now the room seemed more or less empty, more of the other girls wouldn't be arriving until later like I usually did. I didn't waste time admiring a view I'd seen almost every day for longer than I wanted to admit - even just to myself -, so I walked through, intent of finding Howard to learn of who it was I was to be with today, but instead found a note laying on a bundle of cloth on one of the tables. Walking closer, I could easily distinguish a capital 'D' on the folded note, so I picked it up and opened it.

_Wear this_

_XOX_

_~H._

Typical, I thought. Just like Howard is was to get excited about a new potential regular and suggest some strange outfit I wear for the occasion. Whether he did this just as a strange kink of excitement or to try and claim some responsibility of the new client, I didn't know, but I was always a tab bit wary when he chose my attire for me. I didn't like it when things were taken out of my control, whether or not it was my hours of work or my own clothing, it didn't matter. In a life of little choices, like mine was, every choice you were able to make was made than much more important to your sanity. Whatever little control you did have was sacred and guarded. Being out of control of those little choices was just a step away from being helpless, and being helpless was a path I had walked before with no intention of ever returning.

But looking down at the small bundle of cloth which had previously been covered by the note, I felt a little differently towards Howard's fashion choices. I tentatively picked up the garments, as if unsure of their intent, and observed them carefully. They were of rich indigo blue in colour, black threads embroidered throughout the azure fabric. It was two pieces of clothing, one set of skimpy panties and a matching corset. I had to admit that they were impressive, considering the chooser that is. In my mind I was already I was matching the set with a short-cut, black mock silk robe I had worn here before a few times.

Before I knew it, I was changing into the indigo lingerie and searching the room for the robe I had in mind. It didn't take that long to find, and soon I was dressed and applying waterproof eyeliner and mascara to dramatize my chocolate eyes. I was just about to head to my room when I heard a high pitched whistle coming from behind me. Turning around, I could see Howard leaning on the door frame, arms crossed and a smug smile adorning his sneering face. Standing behind him, like he always did, was his thug-like body guard, Orc. Orc was a large and usually quiet man who took every order Howard have him without question. He treated him with the loyalty a servant would his king, but as slimy as Howard was, it never seemed like he abused his power or treated Orc outwardly unkindly like he did the girls here.

I was reminded of that very fact thanks to Howard's none-too-subtle eyes roaming freely along my scantly covered body. I cut off his view in a heart beat by trying the robe, causing the pimp to frown at me for a moment.

"As beautiful as ever, Diana, the colour looks positively stunning on you," Howard said as he sauntered slowly towards me, like a cat eyeing his next prey - planning to toy with it fully first before devouring it. He sighed dramatically while looking at me wistfully, before continuing, "Unfortunately, we don't have the time to admire the jaw-dropping sight that is you, your client has already arrived-"

"He's already here?" I spoke for the first time, interrupting Howard - something I knew he disliked with a burning passion.

Howard cleared his through loudly, not pleased. "As I was saying, your client has already arrived and is waiting for you in your room, and he didn't seem to patient so I'd scurry over if I were you."

I was about to do just that, but puased at the doorway, looking back at Howard, remembering something.

"Howard, who is it?"

That sneering, condescending grin appeared again, this time with a glint of knowing.

"Go find out yourself," he said before adding to his comment by giving me a slight push out of the door on my back. I looked at him warily before realizing he really wasn't going to tell me. I hated not knowing who I was going to meet, and Howard the bastard, he knew that well.

Just a few minutes later, I found myself at the door to my room, sparing Howard a confident glance - him having followed me here from the dressing room, Orc tailing him as usual. I swiftly ran my fingers through my hair and straightened my robe before dawning my figurative mask of seduction.

_Show time. _

I opened the door and strode inside with the confidence of Olympic athlete. What I was unaware of until this time was that the one person who had successfully torn my walls of self-control, the man who effected me in ways I was ashamed of, was the very person whom waited for me on the other side.

I opened the door, my smooth facade was flawless, until the moment my eyes landed on one Caine Soren.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: That last batch of cyber cookies was just so delicious, you have to keep 'em coming! Hey, send me some cookies on DeviantART, 'cause I just got an account there! Same username but there's also a link in my profile. Speaking of profiles, everyone should skippy on over and vote on my poll kay? =) ****Other than that, I hope you are all having a good start to the new school year! Don't be skipping too much homework to read fanfiction, now, because I did that last year and MAN did I regret it.**

**Updates are going to be slow going. You would NOT believe my schedule. I apologize for any spelling/grammar mistakes. I think I may need to get a beta fairly soon. Any volunteers?**

**Once again, sorry for the disappointment of not having a lemon. I wasn't even going to post this until I had that written, so think of me being generous, kay?**

**Anyways, like? Love? Think it's so horrible that I need to be committed for even posting such an atrocity? *sweat drop* well, I hope it's not that last one, but either way, let me know using the handy-dandy review button BELOW. **


End file.
